Mary Geoise, Holy Land
At the highest floor of a majestic palace within the Celestial Dragon residence in Mary Geoise, the patriarch of the Draco family—the ruling elite—sat in silence.
The grand chamber was vast, spanning the size of ten basements. Glittering crystal chandeliers lit the room as if it were daylight.
Thorn knelt on the floor, his knees aching from an hour of prostration. His forehead nearly touched the marble ground, hands spread flat in submission. In front of him sat his father—the current patriarch of their Celestial Dragon lineage—cloaked in resplendent robes, perched upon a wide, throne-like chair.
This man had held his position for 800 years, ever since the Draco family became one of the nineteen ruling families among the Celestial Dragons—the self-proclaimed "Gods" of this world.
"Father, I humbly beg for your permission," Thorn pleaded, his voice low and respectful, never daring to meet his father's eyes.
"...You dare make such a request?! For the sake of an inferior creature?!"
The patriarch's voice exploded in fury, slamming his wine goblet down, wine sloshing onto the tablecloth. His face contorted in disgust at his son's words.
"The Celestial Dragons exist to be worshipped," he hissed. "We are the apex of all creation. We do not bend to the whims of those born beneath us. For a decade, you've pleaded for that filthy half-blood child."
His voice echoed through the chamber, dripping with contempt.
"But that child carries my blood... even if he's been banished to the seas..."
Thorn's voice trembled as he recalled the hopeful eyes of his son, Iggy, back when they last saw each other in the darkness of the cellar. Summoning the last of his courage, Thorn tried one final time.
The patriarch's eyes narrowed. "Have you forgotten what happened twenty years ago? To Donquixote Homing?"
The words struck Thorn like a lightning bolt.
Donquixote Homing—a Celestial Dragon who had renounced his status and left Mary Geoise with his family to live among commoners—had been humiliated, scorned, and ultimately hunted down. His family suffered brutal lynching, and in the end, it was his own son, Doflamingo, who killed him.
It was a dark warning engraved into the history of the Celestial Dragons: mercy was weakness, and weakness led to disgrace.
"I won't let you become the next Homing," the patriarch said coldly. "That woman polluted our noble blood. Her existence—and that child's—are unforgivable sins. I don't want to hear another word about them."
Each word sank into Thorn's heart like a blade.
"…Yes, Father."
His tone shifted—no longer defiant, but broken and resigned.
"Good," the patriarch nodded, pleased. "Now, how are the preparations for the wedding?"
With his son's obedience restored, his voice mellowed slightly. He now spoke of the noble woman handpicked as Thorn's future wife.
"My son seems quite pleased with her," the patriarch added.
"…Yes," Thorn replied, forcing composure. Under crushing pressure, he no longer dared to express even the slightest resistance.
"Then go. Make the preparations."
As Thorn exited the room, the patriarch waved over a guard stationed by the door.
"That fool still dares plead for that woman and her bastard son," the patriarch muttered darkly. "It only proves he still harbors feelings for them. He'll never be at peace in his marriage if they remain alive."
He handed over a sealed document.
"Send this location to CP4. Have them eliminate the woman and the child. Tonight."
"Yes, Patriarch. But… what about the young master?"
The guard, who had served the family for decades, dared to raise a cautious question.
"Thorn is no longer your concern. Just deliver the order. As long as that filthy stain exists, it'll taint our family's name. They've lived far longer than they deserved."
"…Understood."
The guard bowed deeply and turned on his heel, marching swiftly down the corridor.
---
In the Basement Below
Unaware of the imminent danger, Iggy and his mother, Yuni, remained hidden deep beneath the palace. Thorn's promise had rekindled a flicker of hope in Iggy's heart—a belief that a better life was possible.
Mother and son embraced tightly, their tears finally those of relief, not despair.
But neither knew the truth: Thorn had never been able to defy the fate forced upon them. One moment, he gave Iggy the promise of a new life and recognition as a human. The next, he bowed again to the will of the family—readying himself for a political marriage.
Yuni, though exhausted, saw that spark of hope in her son's eyes. Her weakened body, worn down from years of pain, was still stirred by a long-forgotten sense of purpose.
"Iggy," she whispered. "You've grown up so much. There's something I must tell you… a secret I've kept your whole life."
Iggy's expression turned solemn. "A secret…?"
"It's about your true name."
He blinked. "My name? But you've told me everything. That I come from the royal family of Alabasta. That our bloodline once protected the ancient Poneglyphs."
Yuni smiled faintly, but then her expression turned serious.
"There's more. You have a second name. A hidden legacy."
She placed her hand on his cheek. "Your true middle initial… is D."
"…D?!"
Iggy froze, his mind reeling. He had heard whispers of that name. The mysterious will of D—spoken of in hushed tones among revolutionaries and feared by the World Government.
"One day, you'll understand what that means," Yuni said, gripping his shoulders tightly. "But until then, promise me—never tell anyone. Not a soul."
Iggy met her eyes—so fierce and resolute, unlike anything he'd ever seen from her. He nodded.
In his heart, he already knew:
He was one of the "D."
An enemy of the so-called gods.
---
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